Omega
by Harold Q. Eastwood
Summary: Two freelance bounty-hunters are drawn into the middle of the desert by promises of riches... Sucks to be them, don't it?


OMEGA  
  
The mid-summer sun set lazily over the settlement of Glazers Creek, a mining town on the southern edge of the Crownhead desert that had been nothing but dust and ruins for the past four years. This had been when Warmaster Julian had enacted his coup, conquering the entire Acorn Empire and enslaving the population, or, and in the case of Glazers Creek, eradicating it.  
  
Due to the towns population being long since dead, and partially because nothing could survive the noon-day sun in what was essentially a pile of sun-bleached timber and sand-scratched rock, nothing that could be classed as intelligent life, or even higher life, had passed through the town in the past four years.  
  
Today was _different_ however, as two freelancers who are only classed as sentient because there isn't a category between lower and higher lifeforms that they could fit in, had crawled into what could barely be called a town, and only because it was marked as such on the sign.  
  
Slowly they walked in, barely hydrated and on the edge of death, a pale green gecko known only as "Jeffers" and a sparrow who went by the name of Earl. Both had been barely teenagers on the south coast of Crownhead when the coup had been enacted, and the two had been drawn together through necessity in one of the many rebel enclaves dotted across the former Acorn Empire.   
They'd seen enough of the killing that went with being a freedom fighter, as both had lost their families and almost all of their friends to SWATbot Kill-Teams. They took to the life of the hired sword, with very limited success, probably because neither matched the image of the hard-as-nails, world-weary mercenary. But now, now they had a chance to make something of their pathetic lives.  
  
A cache of intact droids, deactivated since the end of the Great War, was holed up in Glazers Creek. Sure, they were outdated, but maybe they could be replicated? Maybe the Rebellion would pay handsomely for the beginnings of a droid army? _Surely_ it was worth the risk they were taking?  
  
Right now, two hours after the last of their water had run out, Jeffers, the younger and arguably the dimmer of the two, was starting to think it _wasn't_.   
"This is the right place, right?" Jeffers asked, for the third time since Glazers Creek was in sight.  
"Look Jeff, for the last bleedin' time. The sign said it was. It is the right place." Earl, the older and wiser, but only by default, of the two, snapped back, looking around for any signs of this supposed stash of droids. Jeffers had began to look inside the few standing structures, starting with what may have been a blacksmiths forge, yet the roof had long since been blown away, leaving the contents of the building open to the harsh desert sun.   
"Bloody hell! Earl! Come look at this!"  
  
Earl moved over to the smithy, and saw the cause of Jeffers exclamation. There was a row of bodies, little more than skeletons and rags now. There was, from what Earl could tell, a dozen complete bodies, with maybe eight sets of scattered parts that were from separate animals. From what Earl could tell, they'd been here for at least four, maybe five years.  
  
He suppressed a shudder. Julian's death-squads had lined up families, whole _communities_ in the worst cases, like this all over the planet and executed them in cold blood, leaving the bodies to the open air to slowly decay, if they weren't paraded through the slave-camps as an example to those who stood against Julian and his endless armies.  
  
Earl offered a quick prayer to whatever gods were listening, not only for those who had been butchered here, but for himself and Jeffers. Neither of the pair wanted to, but they didn't want to die _here_. Here, in the wilds where no-one would notice, no-one would miss them.   
No funeral, no burial. Just rotting away in the high-noon sun, desert scavengers picking their carcasses clean.  
  
"Saint Sebastian..." Jeffers cursed under his breath, turning to Earl. Earl just looked down sadly.  
"I know Jeff, I know."   
"So what now?" Earl composed himself, and looked out to what buildings were left in the town. Nothing much, just a cube of stone, windows long since smashed.   
"We find if there is some cache of droids, we get it and we get the hell out of here."   
"Sounds like a plan." Jeffers responded, yet only half-heartedly. He was evidently in shock after seeing the townspeople's remains. In all honesty, Earl didn't blame him.  
  
Jeffers had moved onto the other remaining building, and from Earls best guess it was the watchman's office, and probably a holding cell to the rear for whatever small-time criminals showed up in the backwater.  
  
The door was locked, much to the pair's surprise. However, Jeffers had some uses and fortunately, one of those was lock-picking. After a few minutes of playing with the lock with one of the myriad small tools from his pack, Jeffers managed to get the door open.   
It swung open on dusty hinges, showing a single room, covered in broken and decaying furniture, with an adjoining cell, obviously so by the steel bars.   
Sand had blown in through the broken windows, coating the room in a thin layer and giving everything a gritty feel. The watchman's office had no lamps, from what Earl guessed the town was so backward it didn't even have electricity, so they had to make do with the little dying light was being given off by the setting sun.  
  
"Hey Earl, seems the place is empty!" Jeffers stated, and with that, Earl followed him in, beginning to search the remains of the furniture, salvaging a trio of sickle-pattern blaster power cells, and what appeared to be a long-barrelled hunting blaster... that had been snapped in half, with the claw marks of what seemed to be an enormous predator next to the broken edges.  
_Must have been quite a struggle_, Earl thought as he placed the broken rifle back on the ground. Other than the ammunition there was nothing of even remote worth in the office. He turned to look at the cell whilst Jeffers continued to scavenge for whatever he could find.  
  
"Oh sweet mother of Tyrus... Jeff! We've found it!" Earl exclaimed, looking at the find in the cell. "Gawds, look at it! It's bloody huge!" It was. It was indeed a droid. It was hunched, but at full height it must have been six feet tall, and half that in width. It had a wide, barrel-like body of red and black steel, with a small head at the top, picked out by two small, perfectly round eyes. At its sides protruded two enormous arms, ending in long, silver claws. Each arm was capped by a black shoulder pad, and on the right was a simple mark, perhaps designating rank. Earl didn't know what it meant, but all he knew was that it looked like an upside-down "U".  
  
"What do you think it is?" Jeffers asked, studying it from a distance. It was deactivated, yes, but it still scared seven shades of excrement out of him.   
"A droid." Laughed Earl, moving in to take a closer look.   
"Ha-bloody-ha, Earl. I meant what model? Looks like an E-Series, but no mark I've ever seen." "Dunno, ain't one of the old 100's, or even one of the 1000's, must have been a later model."  
Earl tried to open the cell door, but it didn't want to budge. Then something else moved. It took the sparrow a second to realise it wasn't him, and it wasn't Jeffers, and it sure as hell wasn't the wind. The wind didn't have servos that whined when it moved.  
  
However the droid _did_.  
  
The two circular eyes glowed a deep red, the head turning left to right, then right to left as it scanned the surroundings. Earl stepped back gingerly, and Jeffers frantically scrabbled at the gear they'd looted, trying to stash the blaster cells in his pack.  
  
The droid stood, or rather more accurately unfolded, upwards to its full height which was indeed six feet. Earl stood perfectly still. He was more experienced with droids than Jeffers. He could tell the thing was seeing if they were threats, he was certain of it. If they didn't do anything, the droid would leave them alone and leave, or maybe even shut down again.  
  
Sadly, Jeffers didn't have this knowledge and bolted out the door as if all the hounds of Hell were at his heels.   
Well, he _would_ have if the droids arm hadn't moved with pinpoint precision, revealed a chaingun where its claw had been mere moments before and sent a flurry of bullets that shredded the young gecko's torso, sending a spray of gore across the walls. Jeffers' legs dropped down where they stood, his upper body tumbling out into the street, blood pooling around the two masses that comprised of the young geckos remains.  
  
For a moment, the only sound was the tinkling of expended brass cases as they hit the stone floor, and the death-cries of Jeffers as he finally slipped out of this life.  
  
This was far too much for Earl. Having soiled himself, he tried to run, hoping to whatever gods were watching that he'd be saved, that he'd live to see another dawn.  
  
It was futile, and Earl knew it was futile.  
  
The droid just fired again, ripping his torso to bloodied ribbons. He fell to the ground outside the watchman's office, bleeding to death.   
He knew now he'd die in a few moments, and realised he would not be remembered. He'd be forgotten, like those families, perhaps discovered at a later date. But it was unlikely.   
He realised there would be no funeral. No burial. No tearful relatives. No grieving friends. As he slipped into darkness, he realised there was only one thing now.  
  
Oblivion.  
  
E-Final Series, Unit Designation _Omega_ effortlessly tore away the steel bars in its way and looked at the chaotic remains of the two... _meatsacks_. **Threat neutralized**.   
  
_Meatsacks._  
  
Omega had never used the word before, or even heard it. It just entered its cogitation process at that precise moment. Why? Omega checked. 0.349 seconds later it reached it's conclusion - It did not know. All it knew was that it _liked_ that word. It suited the purpose.  
  
Another new thought entered Omegas electronic mind. It had been _abandoned_. It had been ordered to deactivate for retrieval after it had eliminated the mob- no, eliminated the meatsacks. Retrieval and reward by the master. According to Omegas internal chronometer, that was over four standard years ago. It had been abandoned.  
  
The probability of anyone looking for the meatsacks it had just neutralized was 17.89%. Doubtful, but Omega did not wish to expend resources in a pointless encounter. It considered it's options. It could remains here, slip into stasis again, perhaps never to be found again. Abandoned. _Forgotten_.  
  
_No_. Omega considered another option. It would find the meatsack who had abandoned it, and neutralize that meatsack. And neutralize anything that stood in its way, be it meatsack or machine.  
  
Omega ran a full system scan. Ammunition was at 99.97% capacity, with fuel reserves at 78%. Plenty for the journey. It could recharge and reload on the way if needed.  
  
Omega stepped out into the warm desert night, scanning the horizons. Nothing in visual range. Choosing a direction at random, the droid began to walk towards the north-east with slow, careful footfalls, leaving the dust- ridden hole that had once been known as Glazers Creek.  
  
For the first time since its construction, five standard years previous, E- Final Series, Unit Designation _Omega_ was free, in mind, body and, if it had one, spirit.  
  
And it felt _good._


End file.
